Zerstörerische Dragoste
by silver-nightstorm
Summary: Sometimes love is a good thing. Sometimes, love is beautiful, and wonderful, and magical, and lyrical. Sometimes, love is perfect. But sometimes, love is a bad thing. Sometimes, love is destructive.


For: The Strictest Competition Ever

**Zerstörerische Dragoste**

**By silver-nightstorm**

**Summary:** Sometimes love is a good thing. Sometimes, love is beautiful, and wonderful, and magical, and lyrical. Sometimes, love is perfect. But sometimes, love is a bad thing. Sometimes, love is destructive.

XX

She met him when she was seven years old. He wasn't young then, not by any sense of the word. He was thirty-two years old, and that was practically ancient in her eyes. But he was very handsome and he was very beautiful. And he was kind and patient and caring and he didn't treat her like an ignorant child. When her Papa asked her to leave the room, Tom smiled instead and asked that she be allowed to remain. He sat her on his lap as he told her father all about his ideas about Muggles. How disgusting they were. How they were taking the spots of Wizards and destroying the world with their ignorance. How Purebloods are clearly the most magical humans.

He was so persuasive, so beautiful, so _wonderful_. She told her Papa that night that _he_ was the kind of man she wanted to marry – Mister Tom Marvolo Riddle.

XX

She met him again when she was eleven. He had changed. His face wasn't as beautiful as she remembered it. His eyes were narrower, his nose flatter, his lips slimmer. But he was still beautiful. He took her to Olivander's to buy her wand. He smiled with pride as a powerful wand – 12 ¾ inches of walnut with dragon heartstring chose her. Her heart sang and she blushed prettily as he pushed her unruly black curls to the side and whispered in her ears. _She_ was the type of Witch that made him proud.

XX

She didn't see him for many years after that. She was eighteen. She had just turned of age. It was her turn to swear her loyalty to him. She was the only woman permitted to do so. An honor. A great honor.

He changed more in this time, his looks adapting to closely resemble the snakes he so spoke to. His aristocratic elegance still prevailed. His flattened nose and narrow slanted eyes did little to detract from his handsomeness. His full head of hair was still a deep brown, and his eyes were the familiar steely grey that she remembered. His high cheekbones still added character to his face and his lips, albeit very narrow, were still the same subtle light peach. Many people didn't like him.

Many people didn't believe in his ideals. They thought he was an evil man. She knew better. She knew him for what he really was. The savior of the Wizarding World.

It hurt. Receiving the mark upon her forearm burned so badly, tears leaked out of her eyes and she let out a whimper. She felt his hands on her cheeks, stroking away the salty tracks, tucking her hair behind her ear. He pulled her up and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. He turned her to face the rest of the sworn men in the chamber. He declared her his most faithful follower.

That night, she gave herself to him completely.

XX

Two years later – two wonderful years later – he told her she needed to get married. It wouldn't be… _respectable_ otherwise. He assured her they would still be together. Her husband would be a weak man, a pawn, designed to keep society contained. After all, she was very beautiful. Her sister's were already married (although one should never be spoken of).

So she was married in a beautiful ceremony. And on the wedding night, after Rodolphus fell asleep, she slid out of bed and slunk down the hall of the mansion into the dining hall. A fire was burning in the grate and his silhouette was outlined by the flickering flames. She smiled widely and flew into his arms.

XX

For ten years, they had peace. Ten long, wonderful years. They were winning their war. Nothing could stop them. Her Lord would defeat all her (and his) enemies. For ten years they were not so secret _lovers_. And oh yes, she loved him. She loved him very much.

But then… then _Severus Snape_, that rotten bugger, had given him the damned _prophecy _and destroyed _everything_. Everything. He was gone, dead (but surely not dead because he had told her he _couldn't die_). So she… she would get her revenge.

She went after the parents of the other boy and she tortured them. She tortured them for not being the ones because if only they had been the ones her Lord could have still been alive.

She ended up in Azkaban.

XX

Oh, she was still loyal, yes she was. She loved him, after all. And she would love him forever. He was… he was _wonderful_. And even if he never saw how amazing she was, even if he still continued to value _Severus Snape_, she was still the one. She was the one he loved.

Of course, Bellatrix Lestrange didn't know that Lord Voldemort was incapable of love.

XX

Enjoy! :D


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